Take Me Home
by Red Apples Inc
Summary: Both of their hands dropped to their sides, one of them waiting for the other to say it. Take me home. It was so simple, so easy to say. But both of their mouths were closed shut. BxE ONE SHOT!


_Hey! Yes, another one-shot. I like this one. I've never written anything like it... although, I'm very limited on actually writing! And I've never used such little dialogue. It's odd. _

_NOTE: Um, I think I said something along the lines of "Washington (as in obviously the state)-toned skin", which is a lie. I've lived in Washington for almost all of my life (all my life if we forget Alaska for a few years) and I've seen the rest of my family maintain a good tan for the year and others like me attempt to tan. Believe it or not, there is more sun than you can imagine. I know. SHOCKER! Anyways, I'm babbling, so please, read and possibly review._

_Please review! This is very different from anything I write... sometimes, so it would be A-M-A-Z-I-N-G to get some feedback. _

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She felt ridiculous walking down the street, clutching her skirt in her hands, wearing some strangers shorts, trying to slip off the horribly sized heels she had previously decided to wear the night before, while also trying to act as if she wasn't taking this shameful walk again. She ran a hand through her matted hair, trying to comb out the last remaining knots but awfully failed. The sweat that laid on her neck from the night before would not come off as she tried to brush it off with her skirt. It was as if it were a signature of her emotionless nights.

She stopped.

This wasn't working how she had planned.

But the least she could do was to slip off her heels. And with grace, the little she had stored in her body, she bent over and began to struggle with the last clasp on the heel. She sighed, as she kicked the first heel off and began with the other black, sleek heel. She suddenly came to a halt, noticing that her mahogany hair was catching the first glimpse of sunlight, from the horizon. Her hair, colored with simple tones of reds and browns hung past her shoulders now, as she took the first step forward, another and than another. Her body rested peacefully against the worn, pine railing. Her shoes laid forgotten behind her.

Isabella Swan allowed the beginning rays of light to shine their warmth upon her Washington-toned skin. She closed her eyes and breathed in the chilling sea breeze, allowing each muscle within her to relax. And it felt amazing.

For a long amount of time, until she was interrupted, Isabella stood their admiring watching the sun rise from the horizon. It wasn't until the sound of footsteps slowly approached her that she was aware of anything else besides the vibrant yellow sun and orange, pink and blue sky. Her head twisted to the right automatically, unable to anticipate the moment about to happen. She was prepared. "Bella." He tipped his mariners cap, in the manner of greeting her like he always had and sent her that fabulous crooked grin. Isabella rolled her eyes, _so old fashioned_. His fishing equipment was in his hand, his rod at his side- like always.

"Edward," she said, eyes flashed to the sun and back to him, admiring the pale skin, the bruise-like color under his outstanding evergreen eyes and his absolutely perfect stature.

Edward Cullen and Isabella had spent numerous moments greeting each other like this- how they knew each others name was a mystery for both of them. Bella, on her usual walks home with her hair tousled and her feet bare, and Edward, with his attractive bronze, bed-head hair and runner-like body, the two had created a pattern of greeting. They had never said a word more to each other; they didn't need to.

What was the point?

For her, she could never touch him. Why dirty something so perfect? Why mess something else up? Her life-everything was a mess. She was already a failure in her father's eyes, a failure who knowing slept around, who had no control over her own actions, and was a pushover to anything. She would never change. No, not even for Edward Cullen. As much as she wanted to. Why would she drag that beautiful god into her mess? How could she?

Why would she even consider the idea? He was -and would always be- so out of _her_ league. And why wouldn't a guy like that have a someone already? He's beautiful. Of course he had every girl available after him. Isabella Swan turned her head back to the view she had been admiring before, and Edward Cullen smoothly passed by her, and said no more. Like always. Her stomach lurched forward and tears sprung to the corners of her eyes, and she felt the same intangible need to run after him. "Edward," she crooked in a whisper, calling for the person she felt she needed most. In some odd way she hoped that he'd heard her and would run back to her and just stand by her side or hold her in his warm arms.

She clutched her eyes shut and dug her face into her hands, letting the tears freely fall wherever they chose. Whatever makeup was leftover from the previous night was now running down her cheeks in a frenzy.

_Why are you crying? _She tried to suck it up, to pull the tears but she couldn't do it anymore. Her legs buckled from underneath her and her body fell to the ground. James's, if that _was_ his name, shorts rode up her thigh exposing her cold, milk-pale skin. She placed her head between her legs and allowed the tears to openly poor out her eyes. Her cold skin felt good against her over heated body.

"Bella."

She froze. Heart heart jumped. Tears still fell from her eyes.

"Bella?" He crouched down at her level, and lifted a hand, unsure if he could touch this beautiful creature. His fishing rod fell over from a cold breeze and he swiftly moved it out of the way for the crowds that would soon be coming to soak up some sun or fish.

And although the sun was raising, he knew it was too cold for shorts and a tee-shirt.

Edward moved forward, smelling the intoxicating scent of strawberries he had passed and craved very so often, and brushed his hand through her still-damp hair, moving it from her face. The dirtied face of the tortured Bella Swan shown out at him, tugging guiltily at his whole body. What had he done? He felt the need to cradle her in his arms and to hold her there until the end of time and beyond. She slowly looked up with puffy, red eyes, tears falling from each slowly. Her bottom lip quivered, and she opened her mouth to say something, anything more than his name, and yet all she could say was, "Edward." He fought the urge to smile, like each time she spoke his name- so delicately, and so perfect.

There was a hint of hope and disappointment in her voice. She opened her mouth again, but this time nothing came out. Her red lips snapped shut, and her hand reached forward, caressing Edward's cheek with her dirty palm. It was everything she wanted to say...and more. Her fingers ran up his jaw, tracing carefully at his bone structure, trying at it's hardest to be like the touch of a feather, gentle and smooth, ticklish. Edward's eyes slowly fluttered closed. Her finger had found their way to his closed lips, which parted at contact with her finger. His breath was minty and sweet and pounding against her cheek as he leaned forward. She traced the outline of his lips twice and slowly worked her way down to his where his shirt exposed his smooth, rock-hard chest. She paused.

A smile played on Edward's face, and his eyes opened up suddenly to meet the sullen eyes of Isabella Swan. His stomach jumped, and his breath hitched in his throat. He opened his mouth to say something to comfort her, something other than her name, but nothing sounded more right at the moment, "Bella." His voice was husky, needy. He took grasp of her hand and held the cold hand to his lips, where he delicately kissed each finger, keeping his smoldering evergreen eyes on her chocolate eyes.

Both of their hands dropped to their sides, one of them waiting for the other to say it. _Take me home. _It was so simple, so easy to say. But both of their mouths were closed shut.

They both stayed silent.

How could they explain what was happening? Their sudden needs for each other having to be quenched had no logical reasoning behind them. But neither had ever felt this way about another human, so it was something. It was always something.

This thought rushed to Edward's head, and looking down, touching, kissing Bella just made it clearer. He knew what he had to do. He swooped forward, gathering the broken girl into his arms and walked in the direction of his apartment. The girl in his arms clung tightly onto his clothes, only trying to keep him close to her. She whimpered, going limp in Edward's arms after snugging into the crook of his neck.

He smelled amazing. Like licorice, old spice and something sweetening. It made her mouth water.

After kicking open his door, Edward rushed to his living room. He placed her onto his couch, adjusting the pillow beneath her head. Bella's eyes, once closed, now met the ones of Edward.

She was so close! And this was against every rule that she had with Edward. So what was she doing here? With him? Wasn't she meant to be with someone else, someone she'd danced with at the club down the street? Weren't they at least trying to get into her pants by now? He had her in the apartment, what else were they to do? Bella shook these thoughts from her head. It was so obvious that this was more than any one night thing.

Edward suddenly pulled away, holding up one finger and ran out of the room. Bella's eyes freely explored the amazing room. Rakes of CD's mounted the walls, along with bookshelves filled with books Bella had never heard of and now desperately wanted to read. Along the wall, closest to the CD's was a stereo system of high quality, that obviously costed a rather large amount of money. The couch she rested on was plush, and smelled of real leather. He was loaded.

Bella groaned, slapping her forehead with the palm of her hand. She closed her eyes. Her head and heart pounded while she awaited Edward's return and touch.

Edward swiftly rushed back into the room, in his both of his hands was a cold washcloth and a glass of ice water. He rushed to her side, setting the water glass onto his coffee table and kneeled down. His hands reached up, gracefully wiping the hair out of Bella's face and slowly he began to dab the washcloth onto her flushed cheeks. Her eyes closed and her face was peaceful. She enjoyed it. He grinned, feeling satisfied with himself and stroked Bella's hair. It surprised him that the sweet smell of strawberries was still strongly detectable after all that she had been through and had sweated out. He inhaled her aroma and continued to wash off the black eye-liner that dried onto her cheeks. By the end of it, Edward had thoroughly wiped off any kind of makeup, and Bella's breath noticeably grew deeper and deeper. "Bella," he whispered.

A noise sounded from the back of Bella's throat, and she twisted to her side, facing Edward. Edward chuckled and gathered her into his arms again. This time he took her to his bedroom, and laid her onto the plush bed that he had spent many nights alone or thinking.

This was obviously different for Bella, though he would never judge. How could he?

Bella was something more. How could she not be? The first time he spotted her on the street, everything in him was attracted to the girl who wore the short black cocktail dress, carried her heels in her hands, walked down the cold early morning street barefoot and looked like an absolute mess and it grew more and more with each and every greeting. She always looked the same, with the same tortured and pulled look and Edward had the feeling, the absolute need, to selfishly keep her from the world and for himself and hide her from whatever it was that tortured her so much. No one would be able to care for her in a lifetime as much as he could in a single day.

They both knew it.

"Edward," Bella mumbled, into his pillow. Her fingers dug into the feathers of the comforter and her body was stiff for a moment before returning to her normal and more relaxed position.

Edward stood there thinking for a few moments on how he could approach this situation. Bella laid on his bed, sleeping. What was he to do? When he finally made his decision he walked back and gathered a shirt from the pile of clothes near his dresser and threw off his other on, slipping on the tight tee-shirt. He shed off his pants, and was left only in his favorite pair of black boxers and approached the bed. Edward was careful as to where he placed his weight, not wanting to shift the bed and wake up the beauty next to him.

Finally, after minutes of work, he had settled himself onto the bed, perfectly positioned. Bella laid snuggled into his side, snoring very lightly and looking peaceful. He stared down at the angel resting on his right side, and carefully brushed the hair from her face. She stirred and opened her eyes in a flash. Bella, without warning, sat upright, staring down at Edward, who watched her every move with caution.

Yes, he was clothed, and he did look just as innocent as ever, staring up at Bella with his innocent evergreen eyes, from beneath his thick eyelashes. Her guard instantly fell, but she was still aware of the semi-naked Edward. What was she suppose to do with him? Edward looked up with concern filled eyes and began to get off of the bed, but was stopped by Bella who shook her head, and wordlessly told him to lie back down. The weight of the bed shifted and Bella sat hovering over Edward, her head hung extremely close to his own, her lips hovered over his. "Bella-" He began, his voice husky, but was interrupted when Bella's warm lips pressed down onto his. All the feelings in the world could not explain how he or she felt.

As if the moment were going to end any second, Bella desperately ran her fingers through his hair, slowly moving her lips over his. She clung to him and she held back from tearing all of his clothes off like she so desperately craved too. This was the one person, the one man, she had to take everything slow with. He wasn't another night, another guy. This was the Edward who knew her better than anyone else on the planet, just by looking at her a few dozen times. That was more than she could ever say for any other guy she had slept with.

Her tongue sneakingly pressed against his bottom lip, and in an almost teasing manor she twisted her hips and was fully pressed against Edward. He groaned against Bella's flawless lips in response and but only kissed Bella harder. He kept his hands at his sides, as if afraid to break her when he touched her.

He, of all people, should have known better.

Bella dragged her lips away from Edward's and slowly laid kisses nervously along his jaw, as if she had never done this. Her lips felt like fire against his cool skin and he could only moan in response to her amazing touches, the little things she did that drove him magnificently crazy! Her hands left his hair, drawing down to the hem of his shirt where she gingerly drew it up over his head and threw it behind only to gasp in surprise; his bare chest was just as beautiful as she had imagined. Pale, smooth, with not a hair in sight (just how she enjoyed it) and perfectly sculpted. There were oversized muscles, no scars. He was so beautiful. And Bella noticed as she stared down at his body that his body had a glow about it. Bella looked up to meet the evergreen eyes she was sure to fall in more love with each and everyday, they looked back at up at her obviously attempting to suppress their real emotions, nervousness. Bella leaned down, planting simple kisses up and down his chest, as if to calm him for the moment that had to come soon. She felt it too.

They continued to explore each other for a few more minutes. Edward's lips now pressed hungrily to _his _Bella's neck. Her sweet intoxicating smell of strawberries nearly drove him off edge, but so much was holding him back from what they both wanted. _What if she didn't want this, but expected it?_

_No, no, no._ "Edward," she moaned from atop of him, throwing her head back and exposing more of her pale skin and delicious neck. _This is real. _

Edward confirmed both of their thoughts with another deadly, passionate,_ lovely_ kiss. His hands finally moved from their frozen position, settling on her flushed checks. He pulled her forward, trying to be gentle, and pulled her to his lips once more, before dragging her down with him.

It was like a sudden pause in time.

And instead of continuing what was to happen seconds ago, they laid there looking at each other, waiting for the next move, the next word, but when both tried to say something, nothing came out.

Edward sighed, and pressed his heated lips to Bella's forehead. They both enjoyed the feeling of being in each others arms, ignoring the rain pounding against the closed window, and slowly drifting off to sleep.

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Jesus, this was suppose to end 2,000 words ago... OH WELL! The ending is iffy, once again, oh well. **_REVIEW__!_**

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